


Not So Legendary

by BiJane



Series: Canaryverse [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Episode: s02e08 Legends of Today, Episode: s04e08 Legends of Yesterday, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Rip did not think things through, Snark, anti climax
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6624394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiJane/pseuds/BiJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rip Hunter picks up Sara Lance to begin forming his team to defeat Vandal Savage. </p>
<p>Sara has other, much easier, ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Legendary

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down and tried to work out just how time travel works in the series, after the Pilgrim's episode. I had to give up.  
> That, plus idle speculation as to how Legends of Tomorrow would fare in my Canary AU, prompted this. Silly, fun, occasionally snarky. 
> 
> You don't really need to know anything about the AU, it'd generally make sense even in canon.  
> The only notable change is that Sara got picked up in 2013 rather than 2016, and that's only to avoid leaping a few years ahead in my AU.

Sara vaguely remembered running over the rooftops of Starling City. Her normal routine, as the local vigilante: then, out of nowhere, she remembered being shot.

Now, she seemed to be inside a plane, or boat, or something. She was in a chair, unrestrained, and she slowly turned her head. Everything was metal.

She blinked woozily, her head pounding. It felt like more than just the aftereffects of whatever had knocked her out.

She opened her mouth to speak, and nonsense came out.

“Ah, Miss Lance!” a voice. “Sorry about that, side-effects of time travel, you should be able to speak normally again soon.”

Sara hesitated. She twitched her fingers, relieved to feel they could move: and she straightened.

There was… something in front of her. It looked like a table, but the surface was alight with some hologram, unreadable rows of figures and information.

At its head, there was a man in a long coat. His eyes scanned over the display, apparently reading the information.

“Be with you in a sec,” he said, “I didn’t want to give the same explanation several times, so wait until everyone’s gathered before asking questions.”

“Who are you?” Sara said, relieved to find her voice worked at last.

“Rip Hunter,” he said, “Time Master. Look, it’s a long story ok? I’m putting together a team, and like I said, I don’t want to give the same explanation several times.”

“A team?”

“Yeah. Sorry, like I said, there are side-effects, if you can speak normally the disorientation should wear off soon. Time travel’s like that.”

Sara paused.

“ _Time travel_?” she said, flatly.

“Well, what are the chances the ideal team would all be from one particular time period?” Rip said. “Picked you up at the time you were both best trained and most likely to come with me. Zinda’s back in the 40s, there are a few in a couple of years’ time, and the League of Assassins is a good source of people without long lifespans and so minimal effect on the timeline, and good training. Haven’t decided on everything yet.”

“You haven’t thought this through, have you?” Sara said.

“I was in a bit of a rush,” Rip said. “Anyway-”

Sara leapt to her feet, immediately crossing the room. It was hard to not be wary given she’d been abducted by someone who either had no conception of what was real, or had access to incredibly powerful technology.

Neither was particularly comforting. Rip’s hand ducked down, apparently going for whatever gun he’d used to stun her: she grabbed his wrist, pinning him in place.

“No excuses,” she said, “Tell me why I’m here.”

“I _was_ ,” Rip said. He paused. “Do you really need to get violent?”

“I don’t know you, and you kidnapped me,” Sara said. “Like I said, you didn’t think this through.”

Rip tilted his head, conceding the point.

“Ok,” he said, after a moment, “So long as you help keep the rest of the team under control when we pick them up. I’ll give the full story twice, that’s it.”

“Deal,” Sara said, “ _If_ it’s worth letting you pick them up. And if you let me help pick the team.”

“Why?”

“We’ll be working together,” Sara said, “Surely we ought to get a say? Wouldn’t want to end up side-by-side with, say, criminals. That could end badly.”

“Yeah,” Rip laughed nervously. “I’d- I’d never do that.”

“Good,” Sara said: glared. “So, feel like explaining?”

“If you’d be so kind as to let me go,” Rip said.

Sara released his lapels, grabbing his gun by the hilt as she withdrew. She sat down again, idly holding it between her fingers; not pointing it, but making sure it was visible.

“Right,” Rip said. He inhaled. “In 2166, an immortal tyrant named Vandal Savage conquered the world, and…”

* * *

“…And so using the Waverider, which can travel to anywhere in space or time, we should be able to find a way to stop him,” Rip said. He inhaled deeply. “Clear?”

Sara stared at him as though he was mad.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rip said. “Can I have my gun back?”

She kept staring. After a few seconds, though, she sighed and tossed it to him.

If nothing else, Rip didn’t seem dangerous. Terrible at planning ahead, maybe, but not dangerous. Still, if he was telling the truth, it would be worth helping him.

And judging by the ship she was in, the futuristic design, and the Gideon-AI that piped up occasionally, he certainly did seem to be a time traveller. Either people from the future had elaborate ideas for practical jokes, or he was being honest.

“So,” Sara said, after a moment, “Anywhere in space and time?”

“Yes,” Rip said.

“This is a spaceship?” Sara said.

“I thought we’d covered that?”

“Just thinking,” Sara said. She paused. “Would you mind if I took it for a joyride?”

“Yes. Very much,” Rip said. “Can we get back to the mission?”

“Sure,” Sara said, “Killing Vandal Savage. Is it hard?”

“Did you not hear the ‘immortal?’”

“But how immortal?” Sara said, “Does he just not age, or-”

“He recovers,” Rip said. “According to history, you’ll face him in the December of 2015: you believe you’d killed him, and he recovered.”

“So I’ll try to kill him?” Sara said. “Why not help me then? If you don’t know exactly where he is throughout history, surely you should start with that. And if you want me on your team, surely it’d be better to start there? Convince me you’d be on my side rather than kidnapping me.”

“Time travel doesn’t work like that,” Rip said, “If I involved myself in any major event-”

“Like taking out a power-mad dictator who took over the world.”

“Then it would- yes, I didn’t say it would be easy,” Rip said. A flicker of irritation crossed his expression at her interruption.

“Just saying,” Sara said, “Doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense. Like, if you went back in time and killed him, why would your future self know to go back in time and kill him? Would there just be two of you running around-”

“Yes, actually,” Rip said. “It’s called a time remnant: a residual from another timeline.”

“Ah,” Sara raised her eyebrows, “That does make sense actually. So if someone was to go back and kill me as a child, they’d just create a different timeline: meanwhile I’d still be alive and well in some residual, so-”

“No,” Rip said, “You’d die in the present at the same moment: everyone would see you vanish.”

Sara paused.

“You’re making this up,” Sara said.

“I assure you I’m not.”

“But that makes _no_ sense,” Sara said, “What even is the present when time travel’s involved? Surely I’d just never have existed, or be remembered, and wouldn’t die?”

“It’s all to do with hypertime, fourth and fifth dimensional potentials, and-” Rip said, then cut himself off, waving a hand. “Look, never mind, have you spent years studying time travel? No. Didn’t think so. So just take my word for it, this is just how it works, and-”

“Did _you_ understand it?” Sara said. “Just saying, I’ve taken a few classes where I came out knowing about as much as when I went in. Did you just flunk out?”

“No!” Rip said indignantly.

He paused for a few seconds. Apparently this wasn’t going as he’d expected.

“ _Anyway_ ,” he emphasized, “The mission. Vandal Savage.”

“Right,” Sara said; paused. “Is that his real name?”

“What?”

“Vandal Savage,” Sara said. “I refuse to believe anyone would name their child that.”

“I believe he was born Hath-Set,” Rip said. “Ancient Egypt.”

“Right,” Sara said, and paused. “No, wait, does that mean he _chose_ the name Vandal Savage? That’s quite possibly even worse. Evil McEvilface. Killing Murderson. That’s beyond pretentious. Are you sure he’s got the capacity to be some world-changing threat? Sounds more like an emo teenager.”

“ _Very_ sure,” Rip said.

“And you said I fought him?” Sara said. “How’d that end?”

“You reduced him to ash,” Rip said.

“That didn’t kill him?”

“He could recover from a single cell,” Rip said.

“Which cell?”

“Excuse me?”

“Which cell would he recover from?” Sara said. “Would all the ash need to be together, or would only one part regrow the full Evil McEvilface? Or would there be ten of him from each speck?”

“I…” Rip paused. “I’m not entirely sure. I imagine the largest. Or it’s random. Thankfully there is only one of him.”

“Ok,” Sara said.

There was a long few seconds. Both Sara and Rip waited expectantly. After a while, Rip broke the silence.

“Any more questions?” he said, as though dreading the answer.

“No.”

“Really?” Rip said, somewhere between surprised and relieved.

“Really.”

Rip waited a few seconds, in case she’d change her mind, before turning back to face the control table. He tapped a few controls.

Several faces popped up. Sara vaguely recognized a few: then there were others that were strangers to her.

John Constantine, from the island. Martin Stein. Then strangers identified only by a name under their photos: Mick Rory, Leonard Snart, Zinda Blake, Kendra Saunders, Jefferson Jackson… And dozens more possibilities.

“I can advise,” he said, “I have a shortlist: people who it’s safe to take out of their usual time, and who’d be useful to the mission, if not both to the same extent. I-”

“Done,” Sara said.

“I- excuse me?”

“Done,” Sara said.

“You’re done?”

“Yep,” Sara said. “Done.”

“You do realize we’re assembling a team to overthrow quite possibly the most dangerous individual ever to have lived?” Rip said.

“You’ve made that very clear.”

“And you’re… done?”

“Yep.”

“That soon?”

“How long did you take planning this?” Sara said.

There was another brief silence. Eventually, Rip had to nod.

“…Ok then,” he said, slowly, “We’ll see how it goes. Where to first?”

“December, 2015,” Sara said. She smiled.

* * *

It hadn’t been hard to get the exact date from Gideon. After waiting a couple of minutes to shake off the last time travel symptoms, Sara left the Waverider.

Rip followed at a distance, apparently unsure as to what she was planning to do. He seemed even more baffled when Sara briefly popped into a Home Depot, coming out with a box.

Eventually she reached a building, and sat down on the hood of a car just outside. A few moments later, Rip approached.

“ _What_ are you doing?” Rip said.

“Waiting,” Sara said.

Something lit up in the building, shining through the windows. Rip looked at Sara, incredulous.

“Your future self is in there,” Rip said.

“Yep.”

“You don’t know just how dangerous this is,” Rip said, “You can’t interfere with another version of yourself, not without training, the potential danger is…”

“I’m not planning to say hi,” Sara said.

“Then why-”

“Time travel,” Sara said, “Do you know the easiest way to defeat the strongest opponent?”

“What?”

“Wait until they’re not so strong.”

The light went out, and a small, exhausted group left the building. Sara recognized herself, but Rip quickly jumped in front of her eyes. He didn’t want her to spoil her own future.

Once they were gone, Sara stood up and walked into the building. She quickly spotted where the battle had happened.

Reduced Savage to ash, Rip had said. He wasn’t joking. Moderately impressed, Sara hurried closer, and crouched by the small pile of Vandal Savage.

Then, she opened the box she’d purchased, pulled out a dustbuster, and sucked up every speck.

“Catch!” she said, throwing it to Rip. “Most dangerous person in the world? Most dangerous vacuum. Anyway, you said you had a spaceship?”

Rip said nothing, apparently momentarily lost for words. He couldn’t quite tear his eyes away from the appliance in his arms.

“Hello? 2013 to Rip?” Sara said, “Spaceship?”

“What?” he jumped: nearly dropped the dustbuster, and desperately scrambled to stop it falling. “Uh, yes. Spaceship. Waverider. Yes.”

“You ok?”

“I… wasn’t expecting it to be that easy.”

“You knew he was reduced to ash at some point and you wanted to go assemble a team to fight him at some _other_ point?” Sara said, “You didn’t think it through. Like I said.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” Rip said, slowly. “Why did you want a spaceship?”

“You said he’ll recover?”

“Eventually,” Rip said, “I doubt we have more than a few minutes before he starts showing signs.”

His gaze flicked back to the vacuum, both incredulous and perturbed.

“Then let’s hurry back,” Sara said. “Would you mind throwing him into the Sun?”

“I can do one better,” Rip said, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

* * *

Every cell in Sara’s body ached. By the sound of Rip’s groaning, even he seemed to have been affected by this jaunt too.

She couldn’t see, and her hearing was undercut by a distinct ringing. Her legs refused to move, and as far as she could tell her nerves were both numb and screaming. She couldn’t feel anything beneath her fingertips, but she knew they were protesting.

“I forgot how much I hated these symptoms,” Rip said, hoarse. He shifted, picking himself up.

Sara’s vision cleared just in time to see Rip pick up the dustbuster from the seat it’d been strapped into.

“Welcome to the far future, Miss Lance,” Rip said, “Even if Savage started moving straight towards Earth, as though that were possible, there aren’t any humans left. They’ve all up and gone, the Sun can’t support life any more. I think it’s safe to say he can’t do any harm.”

“Frar hmf,” Sara said. She groaned.

“Give it a moment,” he said.

“How far?” she said, eventually.

“In the future? Far enough that the date’s on a different calendar,” Rip said. “Can you stand?”

Sara shifted. It had been a few minutes since the trip through time had ended, and a lot of the disconnected aches still plagued her. Unsurprising: this had been a long journey, apparently the side-effects ramped up too.

She managed to get to her feet, tottering unsteadily.

“Good,” Rip said. He beamed at her, his earlier wariness apparently replaced with gratitude. “Come with me, this is going to be fun to watch.”

He led the way through the Waverider, until they’d made it to a smaller chamber. At the far end was what looked like a large, metal door: closer to them was another wall, with a smaller, thick door and a large clear glass panel.

Rip hurried inside, put the dustbuster down, and ran back to shut and look the door behind him. He gestured to Sara, and she came closer, looking through the glass window.

“Gideon,” Rip said, excitedly, “Will you do the honours?”

The dustbuster twitched. Something inside might have been growing: Rip jumped at the movement.

There was, however, no need to worry. The large door at the far side opened, exposing the deep, black void of space: and the Sun twinkling in the dark.

It looked different to any photo Sara had seen: older. Much older.

As the air fled the chamber, the Vandal Savage filled appliance was evacuated with it, twirling out into the empty void and drawn inexorably closer by the Sun’s gravity.

The door shut, and Rip turned on the spot, smiling.

“I have to say,” Rip said, “That does beat my plan.”

“No comment,” Sara said.

“Not as entertaining as it could’ve been though.”

“Speak for yourself. You could’ve killed someone if emo teen there’s as bad as you say. Which I doubt. Anyway, can I go back home?”

* * *

She’d waited a little while on the Waverider for her symptoms to abate. Meanwhile, Rip had been chatting animatedly with Gideon: ensuring that there was no sign of Savage or his influence after 2015.

Nothing made itself clear. Whatever harm he’d done, had been undone.

He’d left rather quickly, once Sara had gotten off. He’d idly mentioned something about technically being on the run from the Time Masters.

Still feeling rather energetic, Sara hurried home. She might as well change back into her regular clothes: there hadn’t been too much physical exertion, but the sheer length of those last two trips through time had taken a lot out of her. It wasn’t worth playing vigilante again for a couple of hours.

“I’m back!” she called, heading straight to her room.

“Good day?” Laurel said, walking in to sit down just opposite her.

“Saved the world,” Sara said, idly.

Laurel hesitated.

“Apparently,” Sara said. “Weird guy. Helped me throw a dustbuster into the Sun.”

Laurel remained staring. Eventually, she laughed.

“You have strange friends,” she said.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”


End file.
